


Saline

by clumsygyrl (thegirlthatisclumsy)



Category: Lord of the Rings (Movies), Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-25
Updated: 2004-04-25
Packaged: 2017-11-10 16:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/468229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlthatisclumsy/pseuds/clumsygyrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Disclaimer: All I own are my thoughts, the rest is hubris.  So, no I don't own the men I write about...</p><p>Written years ago, any and all mistakes and typos are belong to me.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Saline

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All I own are my thoughts, the rest is hubris. So, no I don't own the men I write about...
> 
> Written years ago, any and all mistakes and typos are belong to me.

He tasted like saline like salt tears, but not as strong. He can remember taking sips from the corners of Orlando’s eyes. He can remember the taste, but not why Orlando was crying.

Orlando is made up of different tastes and textures all over. Skin stretched taut over sharp bone and tight muscle. Sometimes he tastes like cocoa, the remnants of the some kind of lotion. Sometimes he tastes, like mint and orange, his tea peppermint and his toast slathered with marmalade. Then there are the times where Orlando tastes like salt and the sea. Something primal and old, and at the same time fresh and new.

The ocean waves seek the shore and pull away, constant and comforting in its pattern. Sand shifting toward land, while their brothers and sisters let themselves be pulled toward to places unknown.

Viggo splays his hand over the center of Orlando’s back. The distant sounds of the water pounding a dull timeless rhythm against the shores somewhere near but far. The web of his fingers settle into the grooves of vertebrae. He bends his head and licks slowly.

Saline and oranges and charcoal.

He frowns at that. He licks the spot again and smiles and lifts his hand. A ghost image of his fingers mark Orlando’s back. Grey and wispy and barely there.

Orlando murmurs softly, caught between dreams. He quiets when Viggo lays his hand in the place where charcoal and skin meet.

Orlando, Viggo realizes, tastes like salt, sweet, and Viggo.

 

fin.


End file.
